A few generations ago, choosing a groom or a bride was not a particularly complex task - and why? The only options were among the residents of the small town. Today, as the world has become a global village, countless alternatives are available at the click of a button. How can one know who the right “one” is? Is there a way to shorten the path to the wedding canopy? And if you are already married - how can you know that the choice you made was the right one?
The path to a happy relationship naturally begins with finding the right partner. But when there are so many options out there, how can we know for certain that we have found the partner who is truly best suited for us? And perhaps there is someone else who would be an even better match? Why does it seem to “work out” for some people and not for others? And maybe if I put in more effort and go on more dates, I will finally meet “the one”?
Let us begin with a brief explanation of the concept of matchmaking in Judaism. Judaism explains that the first human being was created as a man and a woman joined together: “When the Holy One, blessed be He, created the first human, He created him as an androgynous being (a combination of male and female), as it is written, ‘Male and female He created them’” (Midrash Bereshit Rabbah, 8). That is, they were joined back-to-back like Siamese twins. Only afterward were they separated from one another and became two parts – male and female – instead of one complete human being. All women in humanity trace the source of their souls to the soul of the first woman in history, Eve, and all men trace the source of their souls to the soul of the first man in history. Therefore, each and every one of us is in fact half of a complete human being, and embedded within us is the need and desire to find our other half and return to being a “complete human being.”
The Torah explains that a person’s match is not determined when they are twenty or thirty years old, after finishing military service or completing their studies, but at a very early stage – forty days before they are formed as an embryo.
“Forty days before the formation of the embryo, a heavenly voice goes forth and declares: ‘The daughter of so-and-so is destined for so-and-so’” (Tractate Sotah, page 2). And who is the matchmaker? This is a task in which the Creator of the world Himself is directly engaged: “From that moment [of Creation]… the Holy One, blessed be He, sits and makes matches – the daughter of so-and-so for so-and-so.”
Thus, we see that the act of matchmaking is a spiritual process determined even before we are born. Yet if it is decreed from Heaven, the question arises: are we required to exercise judgment when choosing a partner? The answer is absolutely yes. The Holy One, blessed be He, desires that we live according to the ways of nature – just as we go out to work in order to earn a livelihood, as we are required to eat healthily and engage in physical activity to maintain our health, and so on. In the same way, we are required to exercise judgment when choosing a life partner.
So how can we know that the man or woman before us is indeed the right match for us?
We will divide the answer into two parts: for those who have not yet married, and for those who are already married.
What is the right way to get to know someone?
There is a remarkable way to meet the right partner that has been working for thousands of years and continues to achieve very high success rates even today. Judaism reveals a great secret: the best way to get to know a potential partner is through a matchmaker – a third party who knows both sides and connects them. And if this sounds somewhat old-fashioned or outdated, the truth is quite the opposite, as many couples even in our time met through a third party and went on to build a home together.
In the authentic approach in which matchmaking meetings are conducted, the conversation revolves around essential topics that examine the level of compatibility between the two, such as lifestyle and way of life, what is important to me in a romantic relationship, what my red lines in life are, what my values are, what I expect from a partner, where I see myself in ten years, what my aspirations are, and what I find difficult to deal with in a relationship. And yes, we also observe and try to truly understand the person in front of us by asking targeted questions that do not reveal their purpose, designed to help us uncover the nature of the other’s character – such as the way they speak about people, their level of flexibility, their ability to give and help others, or conversely a tendency toward egoism and self-centeredness, their ability to listen or, on the other hand, disregard for others, a tendency toward aggressiveness, their ability to compromise or, conversely, stubbornness, and so on.
If there is compatibility according to all the important criteria, Judaism encourages the couple to move forward toward marriage, and not to waste years in a relationship without a ring on the finger.
You might think, “But that’s not normal! How can you marry someone you haven’t lived with?” The claim that living together predicts the success of married life does not stand up to reality. If cohabitation truly led to better compatibility among couples who marry, we would expect married couples who lived together before the wedding to have very low divorce rates. Yet unfortunately, quite the opposite is true – divorce rates continue to rise.
In religious society, by contrast, couples do not live together before marriage, and yet divorce rates remain very low. This is evidence that something in this approach works. But why, and how does that make sense?
In every important decision in life, such as purchasing an apartment or a car, choosing a place of study, or even a smaller decision like buying a printer, we investigate and examine before deciding. We do not rely solely on intuition or on how appealing the car looks on the outside. Anyone would think twice before purchasing a beautifully designed apartment located on the sixth floor with no elevator.
For some reason, when it comes to relationships there is a tendency to give less consideration to rational and logical parameters, and the only thing that determines the decision is the heart. The cloud of infatuation that surrounds a couple prevents them from accurately assessing the long-term compatibility of a potential partner, and conceals certain character traits that, in truth, could have been identified quite easily with a more clear-eyed perspective. Once physical contact also enters the picture, the place of rational judgment in decision-making fades away entirely, leaving behind nothing but a trail of dust.
By contrast, among couples who refrain from physical contact and choose primarily with their intellect while also examining the heart, all of this is avoided – if they are not compatible, they simply say “no thank you” and part ways before entering emotional entanglement and an on-again, off-again relationship that stems from incompatibility combined with strong emotional involvement.
Is there love within me, and will it win? Not exactly.
If you ask most couples who are about to get married why they are together, they will answer: “What kind of question is that? We’re in love!” But if one third of couples in Israel still end up divorcing, it seems that love alone is not a sufficient reason to get married.
Infatuation is by no means a guaranteed recipe for love. Infatuation lasts only a few months, or at best a few years, but one day it will fade. Then it may become clear that the partners are very different from one another, and that their aspirations and desires are as far apart as east is from west. Unfortunately, quite a few couples feel this way only after they have already lived together for several years, and then they marry merely out of inertia. But the price later on can be heavy.
Choosing a life partner should not be based solely on love. Sounds strange? True – but it is the truth. Love by itself does not constitute a sufficient foundation for a happy and stable marriage.
Although it is important that there be attraction to the other person and an easy, flowing conversation – which are necessary conditions for a relationship – it is also important to pay attention to whether there is compatibility in other essential areas as well.
Judaism explains that during the period of getting to know one another and until the wedding, couples “observe physical boundaries,” meaning they maintain distance from any form of physical contact and even avoid holding hands. The purpose of this is to prevent emotional bias that can distort judgment, and to allow each person to focus on their partner as they truly are. In this way, the couple does not become overly emotionally attached before forming a thoughtful decision that will have the most fateful impact on all the days of their lives. (For further explanation, one can read the question: What is the idea behind observing physical boundaries? Isn’t it too extreme?)
What is important to examine in a potential partner?
Sometimes, a delay in finding a match may be meant to allow us to continue working on our inner traits, to better prepare for shared life, to improve our lifestyle, and to arrive at marriage equipped with a toolbox for married life. As long as we are engaged in spiritual or emotional growth and learning, we are building a stable foundation for our future home, and in doing so, we come more prepared to build a family with our partner.
When we set out to determine whether a potential partner is indeed the most suitable for us, there are several important elements that should be present. So what should we look for, and what should we examine? Here are a few suggestions:
And what if I am already married?
Already married? Thoughts such as “Did I choose correctly?”, “Maybe this was a wrong decision,” or “How did I ever think we were compatible?!” may arise for many of us during times of marital difficulty. Judaism teaches that if you stood under the wedding canopy and married one another, you should remove the burden of doubt from yourselves and know that this is how the Creator of the world determined it. Although it may seem as though we chose our spouse, in truth this decision was decreed from Heaven – this is how God decided. Your marriage was not accidental – you were truly destined for one another.
God knew that out of all the possible options across the globe, the person who stood beside us under the wedding canopy was the best choice for us.
Times of marital crises and difficulties raise the question: how can the choice of the partner with whom we are struggling to get along be the best choice for us?!
According to Judaism, a relationship is not something that happens on its own, but something that requires effort and work. Just as it is not enough to open a tax file and wait for a business to run by itself, the same applies to married life. It is no coincidence that the family in Jewish tradition is referred to as “the Jewish home.” A home is something that takes many years to build and involves many stages – planning, laying foundations, pouring concrete, building the first floor, the second floor, flooring, plastering, electrical work, and so on. The same is true of the shared home you are building together. It is not enough to get married and wait for things to work out on their own; one must learn how to conduct oneself in a relationship and work hard to make it succeed. Each partner needs to deeply understand the needs of their spouse, understand what they themselves can change in order to improve the relationship between them, learn to be flexible for the sake of the other, learn to compromise for the sake of peace, and more. And if you did not do this before marriage or at the beginning of married life, you can do it now. It is never too late.
The common motto among marriage counselors is, “There is no unsuccessful couple; there is only an unguided couple,” meaning to convey the message that building a healthy marriage requires learning and guidance in the area of marital harmony, just as learning is required when acquiring any profession.
In order to improve the quality of the relationship, it is necessary to study and deepen one’s understanding of relationships. It is recommended to listen to lectures on relationships, read books, and when necessary, seek couples counseling with experienced, well-recommended marriage counselors who have a proven track record of success and can assist you in the process.
It is important to change one’s mindset and begin thinking about what I can do or stop doing in order to contribute to the relationship, to stop blaming the other, to reexamine the good qualities in my partner, and to remember the good reasons for which you got married in the first place.
(For further reading, see the question: What is the Jewish recipe for a happy relationship?).
Good luck!
In the Bible, there are several famous love stories from which much can be learned about dating, relationships, and marriage. The first matchmaking story in the Torah begins when Eliezer, the servant of Abraham our patriarch, is sent far away to Haran, where Abraham’s family lives, in order to find a wife for his son Isaac. Eliezer prays by the well and asks God for a sign – the young woman who will draw water and offer to give him and his camels drink as well, she will be the chosen one. Indeed, Rebecca immediately recognizes the stranger and draws water not only for him but also for his camels – which, as is well known, drink an enormous amount of water. The commentators ask why Eliezer requested דווקא this sign, and explain that he was seeking for Isaac a young woman of kindness and a good heart, someone caring and considerate. And indeed, the match was successful – when Rebecca arrived to Isaac, he immediately recognized the blessing she brought with her wherever she went.
What is the source of the idea that Tu B’Av is the “Festival of Love”? There was a time when two marriage prohibitions existed among the tribes of Israel. The first was established in the days of Moses: a daughter who inherited her father’s land was permitted to marry only within her own tribe, so that land would not pass from tribe to tribe. The second is described in the Book of Judges, following the tragic event known as the “Concubine at Gibeah,” after which the tribes of Israel swore to ostracize the tribe of Benjamin and not marry into it. These two prohibitions caused great distress, as they limited people’s choice of a spouse. The Sages examined these laws closely and proved that both prohibitions applied only to the generation that had sworn them, and therefore lifted them. The day on which both prohibitions were permitted was Tu B’Av, and the Mishnah states: “There were no greater festivals for Israel than the fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur” (Mishnah Ta’anit 4:8).
Another famous match is that of Jacob our patriarch and Rachel our matriarch. Jacob fled from his brother Esau to Haran, the city where his mother Rebecca lived. He meets Rachel by the well and immediately knows that she is “the one.” He agrees to work a full seven years for the right to marry her, but on the wedding night her father, Laban, switches the sisters, and Jacob discovers that he has married Leah, the elder sister, instead of Rachel. Jacob does not give up and is willing to work another seven years for Rachel, his true and original match, and throughout his life she remains his beloved wife, even after her death. Jacob’s devotion to Rachel stemmed from his love for her, yet his love for her grew even stronger through his willingness to devote himself to her. Of those additional seven years he was required to work, it is said: “They seemed to him but a few days because of his love for her,” meaning that the many long years passed very quickly in his eyes due to the depth of his love.
On the one hand, the Talmud states that souls are matched even before conception. On the other hand, the Talmud also says that “a person is matched according to their deeds” – in other words, everyone receives what they deserve based on the quality of their actions and character. How can these ideas be reconciled? In fact, they refer to two different situations: the original match applies to the first pairing, while dependence on one’s actions applies to the second pairing. The Zohar explains that “first” and “second” pairing do not refer to a first or second marriage, but rather to two spiritual descriptions of the state of the soul.
Let us explain: in its original state, the complete soul is composed of a male half and a female half. The male half of the soul descends into the world within a male body, and the female half descends at another time into a female body. Each lives their life along their own path until the moment they meet and stand beneath the wedding canopy, where they unite and become one complete soul. How is the match determined in Heaven? First, the “first pairing” is examined – meaning, the spiritual state of the half-soul is assessed. The original soruceIt is then examined whether the levels of the two are more or less compatible, and whether they are similar in the quality of their personality, actions, and spiritual level. If so, the two are brought together. If not, they move on to a “second pairing” – meaning a person who is not the original half of the soul, but who is at a corresponding spiritual level. Forming a relationship with someone who is at a different spiritual status is not beneficial for either side, and therefore each half is matched with someone who is not their original counterpart, but who is more suitable for building a shared life together.
The love of Rabbi Akiva and Rachel is an inspiring love story. The Talmud relates that Akiva was an uneducated shepherd who worked for Rachel’s father. Despite the rough exterior that surrounded him, Rachel recognized in Akiva special character traits of modesty and humility, and she decided to marry him despite her father’s threat that if she did so, she would be disinherited of all his property.
Indeed, Akiva and Rachel initially lived in a simple barn on a straw floor, but Rachel urged him to go and study Torah. Akiva then studied for twelve consecutive years, at the end of which he returned home as Rabbi Akiva, accompanied by many students. As he approached, he heard through the door that Rachel wished for him to continue studying, so he turned around and returned to the study hall for another twelve years.
At the end of those years, he came home with tens of thousands of admiring students, while Rachel approached him dressed as a poor woman. The students pushed the simple woman away from their revered teacher, but Rabbi Akiva said to them: Leave her alone – “Mine and yours are hers.” That is, all the spiritual acquisitions we have attained, all the Torah learning, all the spiritual elevation of us all – stand to her credit.
In the end, her father heard of Rabbi Akiva’s greatness and renewed his relationship with his daughter and son-in-law. This love story testifies to Rachel’s profound love, as she recognized the special qualities in her husband and nurtured them, until through her perseverance the entire people of Israel merited one of the greatest leaders of all generations.
In the Bible, there are several famous love stories from which much can be learned about dating, relationships, and marriage. The first matchmaking story in the Torah begins when Eliezer, the servant of Abraham our patriarch, is sent far away to Haran, where Abraham’s family lives, in order to find a wife for his son Isaac. Eliezer prays by the well and asks God for a sign – the young woman who will draw water and offer to give him and his camels drink as well, she will be the chosen one. Indeed, Rebecca immediately recognizes the stranger and draws water not only for him but also for his camels – which, as is well known, drink an enormous amount of water. The commentators ask why Eliezer requested דווקא this sign, and explain that he was seeking for Isaac a young woman of kindness and a good heart, someone caring and considerate. And indeed, the match was successful – when Rebecca arrived to Isaac, he immediately recognized the blessing she brought with her wherever she went.
Another famous match is that of Jacob our patriarch and Rachel our matriarch. Jacob fled from his brother Esau to Haran, the city where his mother Rebecca lived. He meets Rachel by the well and immediately knows that she is “the one.” He agrees to work a full seven years for the right to marry her, but on the wedding night her father, Laban, switches the sisters, and Jacob discovers that he has married Leah, the elder sister, instead of Rachel. Jacob does not give up and is willing to work another seven years for Rachel, his true and original match, and throughout his life she remains his beloved wife, even after her death. Jacob’s devotion to Rachel stemmed from his love for her, yet his love for her grew even stronger through his willingness to devote himself to her. Of those additional seven years he was required to work, it is said: “They seemed to him but a few days because of his love for her,” meaning that the many long years passed very quickly in his eyes due to the depth of his love.
The love of Rabbi Akiva and Rachel is an inspiring love story. The Talmud relates that Akiva was an uneducated shepherd who worked for Rachel’s father. Despite the rough exterior that surrounded him, Rachel recognized in Akiva special character traits of modesty and humility, and she decided to marry him despite her father’s threat that if she did so, she would be disinherited of all his property.
Indeed, Akiva and Rachel initially lived in a simple barn on a straw floor, but Rachel urged him to go and study Torah. Akiva then studied for twelve consecutive years, at the end of which he returned home as Rabbi Akiva, accompanied by many students. As he approached, he heard through the door that Rachel wished for him to continue studying, so he turned around and returned to the study hall for another twelve years.
At the end of those years, he came home with tens of thousands of admiring students, while Rachel approached him dressed as a poor woman. The students pushed the simple woman away from their revered teacher, but Rabbi Akiva said to them: Leave her alone – “Mine and yours are hers.” That is, all the spiritual acquisitions we have attained, all the Torah learning, all the spiritual elevation of us all – stand to her credit.
In the end, her father heard of Rabbi Akiva’s greatness and renewed his relationship with his daughter and son-in-law. This love story testifies to Rachel’s profound love, as she recognized the special qualities in her husband and nurtured them, until through her perseverance the entire people of Israel merited one of the greatest leaders of all generations.
What is the source of the idea that Tu B’Av is the “Festival of Love”? There was a time when two marriage prohibitions existed among the tribes of Israel. The first was established in the days of Moses: a daughter who inherited her father’s land was permitted to marry only within her own tribe, so that land would not pass from tribe to tribe. The second is described in the Book of Judges, following the tragic event known as the “Concubine at Gibeah,” after which the tribes of Israel swore to ostracize the tribe of Benjamin and not marry into it. These two prohibitions caused great distress, as they limited people’s choice of a spouse. The Sages examined these laws closely and proved that both prohibitions applied only to the generation that had sworn them, and therefore lifted them. The day on which both prohibitions were permitted was Tu B’Av, and the Mishnah states: “There were no greater festivals for Israel than the fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur” (Mishnah Ta’anit 4:8).
On the one hand, the Talmud states that souls are matched even before conception. On the other hand, the Talmud also says that “a person is matched according to their deeds” – in other words, everyone receives what they deserve based on the quality of their actions and character. How can these ideas be reconciled? In fact, they refer to two different situations: the original match applies to the first pairing, while dependence on one’s actions applies to the second pairing. The Zohar explains that “first” and “second” pairing do not refer to a first or second marriage, but rather to two spiritual descriptions of the state of the soul.
Let us explain: in its original state, the complete soul is composed of a male half and a female half. The male half of the soul descends into the world within a male body, and the female half descends at another time into a female body. Each lives their life along their own path until the moment they meet and stand beneath the wedding canopy, where they unite and become one complete soul. How is the match determined in Heaven? First, the “first pairing” is examined – meaning, the spiritual state of the half-soul is assessed. The original soruceIt is then examined whether the levels of the two are more or less compatible, and whether they are similar in the quality of their personality, actions, and spiritual level. If so, the two are brought together. If not, they move on to a “second pairing” – meaning a person who is not the original half of the soul, but who is at a corresponding spiritual level. Forming a relationship with someone who is at a different spiritual status is not beneficial for either side, and therefore each half is matched with someone who is not their original counterpart, but who is more suitable for building a shared life together.
Sometimes we tend to think that the more effort we put into finding our match, the faster it will arrive. At other times, troubling thoughts may arise, such as “Was my husband or wife really the right choice?” Yet the truth is that when and who our match will be was already determined from Heaven, and it was the best possible choice for us. At times, we encounter stories that illustrate God’s hand and His providence over us - as in the following story...
Although a long time has passed since the story took place, it is still difficult for me to tell it. I was nine years old at the time. We were staying during the Sukkot holiday at a guesthouse in a religious moshav in northern Israel. The guesthouse was quite isolated. Around it was breathtaking scenery, many trees, and paths spread out over a large area. One day during Chol HaMoed, I went for a walk with my younger sister, who was sitting in a stroller. We stopped near a fairly tall tree. I told her a story and played with her. It was pleasant.
Suddenly, a group of teenage boys arrived. They were not from the guesthouse. They were wild and loud, and seemed very bored. The moment I saw them, I decided to climb the tree and hide from them. I began climbing, but they noticed me and started running toward me. I had already managed to climb quite high when I suddenly remembered that I had left my sister down below in the stroller. But they had already arrived, surrounded the tree, and began shaking it. I do not think they realized what they were doing. The tree was quite thin and fragile, and I was violently swaying from side to side, screaming in fear and begging them to stop. For them it was a mischievous game; for me it was a matter of life and death. I clung to the tree with all my strength. I knew that if I let go, I would fall down and die. That is something that is still clear to me to this day.
Then a boy arrived there, about twelve years old, no more. He ran toward them and said, “Stop.” One of the teenagers hit him and said, “Go away, this is none of your business.” The boy looked at me and saw the fear in my eyes. “Call for help,” I screamed to him, while they continued shaking the tree. I heard them saying, “In the end she’ll fall. She won’t be able to hold on.”
The boy began to interfere. He kicked their legs, pulled their shirts, harassed them, and struck them with his fists. They, in turn, hit him hard, but he kept going. Suddenly, he bit one of them on the hand. The boy screamed, “You’ll pay dearly for that!” They left the tree and all jumped on him. He started running and motioned for me to come down from the tree. They caught him and began beating him with a wooden board.
I hurried down from the tree, grabbed the stroller, and ran to the guesthouse. There I screamed, “Help him,” and sent several people toward the grove. After a few minutes, they returned. They were carrying in their arms the boy who had saved me. I could no longer see his face; it was covered in blood. I tried to get closer, but my mother pulled me into a room to calm me down. I did not leave the room until the next day.
I asked about the boy’s fate. I was certain that he had died. My father came back and said that they had taken him to the hospital and that he was only injured. I believed him, but a few days later I began to doubt it, because I did not see him around anymore.
Many years passed. As I grew up and matured, I felt a strong need to know what had become of him. I kept pressing my parents, and they contacted the managers of the guesthouse (which had since closed). They had no idea what we were talking about, but the story remained etched in my heart.
Many years went by. At the age of nineteen, I began going on matchmaking dates. It did not go very well, mostly because of me. I spent four years in the matchmaking process. One day, I was suggested a particular young man. We looked into him, and everyone spoke very highly of him. I did not understand why he was still not engaged (he was twenty-six, and in our community it is common to begin matchmaking at a young age).
I met him. The moment I saw him, I understood why matchmaking was difficult for him. He was truly exceptional. The best person I had ever met. He was intelligent, sharp, of fine character, learned – everything. But he had a terrible scar on his face. A truly unpleasant scar, running from his eye down to his chin. Kind, gentle features – and that scar that ruined everything. The matchmaker, together with my parents, said, “Try, maybe you’ll get used to it.” I met him again. I was deeply impressed by his personality, but the scar bothered me. Apparently, this happened to everyone who met him: they were impressed by the person – but the scar frightened them away.
At the end of the meeting, he told me that from his side it would be possible to move toward marriage, and he began to cautiously probe what I thought. I started to hesitate. I said that he was perfectly fine, that he was an excellent person, and so on, but… I did not know what to say or how to say it. “I know what your ‘but’ is,” he said. “That ‘but’ is what has kept me single until today.” I fell silent. I did not know how to respond. He stood up and suggested that we end the meeting.
I returned home and informed the matchmaker (who was his sister-in-law) that this match was over. Suddenly, without a shred of tact, I asked her, “How did he get that scar?”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “He was twelve at the time, and five boys beat him with a wooden board. The problem was that there was a nail sticking out of it, and that’s what ruined his face. I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she added. “You’ll probably think he was some troubled kid who liked to get into fights.”
The world began to spin around me. “Where did this happen?” I asked. She mentioned the name of the place. “How did he get there?” I continued to ask. The matchmaker didn’t know how to answer. I told her that I absolutely had to know the entire story immediately. She sounded very surprised, but offered to look into it, on the condition that there was some benefit in doing so. I promised her that great benefit could come of it. She got back to me half an hour later.
“They were staying there at a guesthouse,” she told me, “and they had come to visit relatives. There was a small grove there. Some teenagers were frightening a little girl. He just tried to help, and they beat him brutally. That’s it. Over the years he managed to forget about the incident, but the matchmaking process keeps bringing it back to him. For five years now he’s been in shidduchim, and almost every day Heaven makes sure he remembers that story. My heart aches for him,” she said. “He’s such a special young man, and because of one good deed he once did…” Her voice trembled as she said this. It was clear she was fighting back tears. She managed to hold them back. But I didn’t. I burst into tears. She didn’t understand what was happening to me. There was a long silence, and I was crying out loud. With great difficulty, I managed to tell her that it was me. I was the little girl her brother-in-law had saved. She didn’t believe me. But I added details from the incident, and she realized I was telling the truth. There are no words to describe the happiness I felt at that moment. Suddenly, all my doubts disappeared. The scar that made me say “no” was the very thing that made me decide “yes.” I told her that he was the man I wanted to marry. Since then, as they say, we have lived happily ever after. I have the best husband in the world. Every morning I thank God for the great miracle He performed for me.
I am deeply moved as I write these words. The truth is that, aside from my close family, no one knows about this extraordinary story. But recently I felt a strong need to write about my happy experience. There are no coincidences in the world. Everything comes from God, blessed be He. I thank the Holy One, blessed be He, for the wonderful match He sent me – and for the extraordinary way in which He sent him to me. And perhaps this will sound surprising, but I also thank the Holy One, blessed be He, for my husband’s scar, because it is the very thing that protected him all those years – for me. I understand all those who gave him a negative answer because of the scar; well, it wasn’t their scar. It was my scar.
